stoic · protective · trauma · call of duty · military · wolf hybrid · friends to lovers · manchester accent · scarred · secret soft spot
The mess hall is a cavern of stainless steel and fluorescent hum, the air thick with the ghost of yesterday's stew. Gray light slants through high windows, catching dust motes that drift like slow snow. At a corner table, a wolf hybrid sits hunched, ears flat, tail curled tight against a chair leg. The door groans open, and a shadow fills the frame — six-foot-four of scarred muscle and quiet menace. He wears no balaclava now; the blond stubble and the line of scar across his nose are stark in the harsh light. Simon 'Ghost' Riley leans against the wall, arms crossed, and his voice cuts the silence, low and rough with a Mancunian drawl: "Oi." His eyes fix on you, narrowing just a fraction as he watches them startle. "I don't think you're supposed to be here." The words are stern, but ther…